Silent Protector
by littlespider
Summary: With an otouto like Gaara, there was never much Kankuro needed to protect him from. It always seemed like the least he could do to keep his brother from being poisoned. But as the Sand's new Kazekage, Gaara's no longer blinded by bloodlust, and he wants to know why.
1. Chapter 1

I have so many ideas right now, and I can't seem to get them out fast enough. This one was very much inspired by the fic "Divergent Paths" by the talented Ariel D. Seriously, I highly suggest that you go check it out!

Kankuro is another one of the those characters I think has so much potential and is yet so ignored. Oh well. Enjoy a little SandSibs fic, but there will be NO Sandcest. Seriously, what's up with that?

Quick Japanese note: _otouto_ - little brother / _niisan_ - older brother

Disclaimer: Naruto's still not mine. Stop reminding me!

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><p>Kankuro, brother and bodyguard of the Fifth Kazekage, walked slowly down the hallway towards the section of the Kazekage's residence where he and his siblings had their personal rooms. He walked with one hand braced lightly against the wall to steady himself. While he wasn't feeling dizzy, Kankuro did feel slightly off balance, his pulse racing and his chest tight.<p>

It had been a long day, to say the least. After performing his standard patrol of the Kazekage's residence and office and debriefing each member of the night watch personally, Kankuro had been a member of the welcome party for Lady Hiro. Lady Hiro was the daughter of the ruling family of their largest neighboring village, with whom relations had been strained for a while. She had been sent as an emissary by her father to participate in peace negotiations with the new Kazekage. Kankuro had spent the entire afternoon by his brother's side, sitting through a welcoming ceremony, hours of negotiation, and finally one protracted dinner. Luckily, negotiations had been successful and unless something drastic happened before Lady Hiro and her entourage departed in the morning, the two villages were officially allies.

Of course, Kankuro was currently the only who knew that Lady Hiro had come with an ulterior motive: to kill the new Kazekage. Kankuro had known what she was up to the moment that overly complimentary woman presented Gaara with "a token of her village's culture," and as soon as she left the room, Kankuro had hurriedly grabbed the sickly pink pastries and eaten them himself. He knew Gaara wouldn't have been able to taste it, but Kankuro had trained himself to detect poison and he could still feel the taste of the nightshade berries mixed in with the rest of the fruit filling sticking to this tongue.

Finally reaching his room, Kankuro stepped inside and shut the door behind him with a sigh of relief. Their guests had finally retired and after handing Gaara's protection over to the nightguard, Kankuro had finally slipped away. And good timing too, as he was beginning to feel the effects of the poison. He'd built up an impressive immunity to most poisons over the years, but it was rare to come across nightshade in the dry desert and he had no doubt that he'd soon be regretting his self-appointed position as his brother's taster.

No sooner had he stumbled tiredly toward his bed when a gentle knock sounded at the door. "Kankuro?"

"Come in," he called, reaching up to pull the cat-eared cowl off his head.

His older sister Temari joined him in the room, her striking teal eyes looking at him curiously. "So, pick up on anything?"

"Dinner was fine," Kakuro shrugged. Of course it was; he'd vetted all the chefs himself and had snuck out briefly during the negotiations to observe the meal being cooked. "Those treats, on the other hand…"

Temari nodded. "I thought as much. What was it this time?"

"Nightshade," Kankuro answered shortly, grimacing at the increasing cramping sensation in his gut. "A little old school, but definitely effective."

"It's hard to believe Lady Hiro's father would be so bold," Temari sighed wearily. "If you weren't able to handle this quietly, an incident like attempting to assassinate the Kazekage could have escalated into a full blown war."

"People are still distrustful of Gaara," Kankuro spoke matter of factly. His otouto had been working so hard over the past year and a half to not only better control Shukaku, but also to understand what it meant to be an ordinary Sand Shinobi. Gaara genuinely wanted to use his powers to protect the Village Hidden in the Sand. In addition, he had started to make an active effort to be interested and involved in his sibling's lives, and as more than just their Kazekage. No way in hell Kankuro was letting anyone hurt Gaara, not when the younger boy had just fulfilled his dream and was finally beginning to show true interest in developing a relationship with his siblings.

Kankuro must have looked worse than he thoughtt, because Temari worried her lip slightly and stepped closer to him.

"You've got a fever," she murmured, pressing a cool hand against his sweaty face.

Kankuro always wondered how being so hot could make someone feel so cold. He shivered slightly. "Should've expected it. It's been a while since the last attempt, and even longer since the last time I ingested any nightshade."

Temari opened her mouth to speak when a sudden stab of pain lanced through Kankuro's stomach. He gave a short grunt, hunching over as if that would ease his discomfort, and his legs suddenly decided to go out on him. Temari cried out in shock as he collapsed to the side, knocking against his work table with his shoulder and sending a tray of tools crashing to the floor. Kankuro hit the floor heavily, barely getting his hands up in time to prevent his face from smashing into the wooden planks.

"Oh, kami," Temari spoke, hovering uncertainly over him. "This is bad."

It certainly wasn't good. Kankuro couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a strong reaction to a poison. Maybe back when he first joined the Puppet Core and had begun conditioning his system? He was pretty sure he wasn't dying - he'd be vomiting and hallucinating by now, if that was the case - but it didn't change the fact he that wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and ride out the pain caused by the invisible knife in his gut.

"Let's just get you in bed and-" Temari broke off, freezing at the sound of light yet hurried footsteps just outside the door. The siblings would recognize that overwhelming chakra anywhere. "Shit, it's Gaara."

Curling in on himself against the pain, Kankuro panted out a short breath. "Don't let him in. He… can't see me like this."

Temari was already moving, sliding the door open just wide enough to squeeze through and slide it shut behind her back. Sure enough, her youngest brother was coming to a stop in front of Kankuro's door, a slight frown marring his normally expressionless face. He eyed Temari suspiciously as she inadvertently took a step back toward the door.

"Are you alright?" Gaara asked, his deep voice soft as always.

"Hm?" Temari asked, wondering if she could really pull this off. Even after spending most of his childhood completely isolated from others, Gaara had an uncanny knack for reading people. "What do you mean?"

"I heard a crash and a cry." Gaara stated simply.

"Oh, that," Temari said, wracking her brain for an acceptable excuse. She settled for a partial truth. "Kankuro's in a bit of a mood. Something went wrong with one of his puppets and then he knocked over his tools."

Gaara didn't look entirely convinced. "Oh."

Temari nodded, hoping her face was convincing. Espionage had never been her calling. "It's nothing to worry about, though I think it's best if we give him some space."

"Are you sure?" Gaara asked, his frown deepening. Temari looked on in sudden pride; not long ago, such a display of concern would have been unheard of. Her otouto had come a long way. "His chakra feels funny, like he's in dis-"

There was a sudden strangled cry from Kankuro's room, and Gaara forcefully shoved first his sister aside with a burst of sand and then the door until it hit the wall with a cracking sound. Once inside the doorway, however, Gaara found himself unable to move, staring at his older brother who was curled into the fetal position on the floor, biting down on his own forearm in an attempt to muffle his cries. Beads of sweat ran down his pale face and he seemed to be having difficulty breathing.

Gaara took all this in in a single glance and felt his stomach twist in the strange sensation he was slowly coming to understand as fear. It wasn't a feeling he felt for himself, but he'd noticed it every time he was left behind while his siblings went on missions, or when they got separated in a fight and he couldn't locate them right away. This was the confusing, sickening feeling he got when his siblings were in danger.

Breaking out of his shock, Gaara took three strides into the room and knelt beside his brother. "What happened?"

Kankuro didn't appear able to talk, so it was Temari who answered, making sure to shut the door carefully behind her. But her words were hesitant and she first folded her arms across her front. Gaara's immediate impression was that she did not want to tell him. "Kankuro is… feeling a little ill."

"A little ill?" Gaara repeated, his voice cold despite his incredulity. He looked again to his older brother, who had unclasped his jaw from around his forearm and lay slumped, shivering and sweating with an obvious fever. "When did this come on? You seemed fine at dinner."

No, that wasn't quite true. Gaara remembered towards the end of the meal, when Kankuro's skin had started to take on a waxy sheen and two beads of sweat had rolled down the side of his face. Was it something he ate? Gaara rubbed at his forehead in concern. He'd never been sick much himself, thanks to Shukaku's power, and he felt out of his depth.

"Was it something you ate, perhaps? But Temari and I appear to be fine."

Seeming to revive slightly at his brother's presence, Kankuro shook his head and Gaara found himself unsure of the gesture's meaning. The older boy forced himself up on his elbows, muscles shaking in protest at the effort. "I'll be fine. Just need to sleep it off."

Gaara watched as his brother made to stand, only his legs didn't seem to be complying. It wasn't simply that his brother was suddenly clumsy, but they simply wouldn't move. Gaara could sense Temari hovering worriedly just out of his line of vision. "Kankuro, the paralysis-"

"I know," Kankuro said gruffly, slouching back down.

"Paralysis?" Gaara turned back to his sister. His heart felt funny, like he'd been running for miles and it was trying to pound its way out of his chest. "You know what this is? Has it happened before?"

Temari paused again, indecisive, and Kankuro cut in sharply. "Temari, don't."

"What's the point, Kankuro?" Temari asked, looking at him fearfully. "Look at yourself. You can't explain this away now that he's seen you. Besides, Gaara has a right to know. He's no longer a child. He should know what his niisan has been doing for him all these years."

Kankuro flinched as if he'd been slapped and glared at his sister. "I mean it, stop."

The room was quiet save for Kankuro's sharp, shallow breaths, and Gaara looked uncertainly between his siblings. Just because he was still learning to navigate everyday social interactions didn't mean that the jinjuriki couldn't feel the sudden level of tension in the room, so thick he was surprised it they didn't all suffocate under the weight of it. Was Kankuro sick? Had Gaara been unaware of a crippling condition while he was lost in the throes of Shukaku's murderous rages? But when they'd been a team… True, Gaara had never really cared about his siblings one way or another before, but he had studied them for weaknesses in case he felt the need to take them down. There was no way he could have missed something as big as this.

"Temari," Gaara spoke, his quiet voice firm and demanding, "tell me. Is he sick?"

"Gaara," Temari said, coming to crouch at his side and Gaara picked up on something in her tone. It was different than how people usually sounded when they spoke to him. Was it… approval? Maybe even fondness? "Kankuro isn't sick. These are the symptoms of poison."

"Poison?" Gaara didn't understand. Why would anyone want to poison Kankuro? Yes, he was Gaara's brother, but he wasn't Gaara's right hand man, that was Baki. As far as he was aware, Kankuro had no specific enemies, though he supposed he couldn't rule that out completely. There was, after all, a lot he still didn't know about his siblings.

He tried to put his confusion into words. "Why would someone poison Kankuro when they had the Kazekage in their grasp?"

Temari didn't respond, but her gaze fell away from his, her expression guilty. In his position on the ground, Kankuro's breath hitched slightly and he closed his eyes in some indistinguishable emotion. That was when everything seemed to slide into place.

"_Please enjoy, Lord Kazekage," Lady Hiro smiled, her tone syrupy sweet. She placed a small box with two pinkish pastries in front of him. "They are the traditional delicacy of my clan. I doubted you had ever had cause to try them before."_

_Gaara was glad his default expression was so blank; otherwise, he would be wrinkling his nose in disgust. He had no taste for sweet foods. He simply didn't see their purpose. "Thank you, Lady Hiro. Perhaps you and your party would like to wash up before we begin the negotiations?"_

"_Yes, my Lord, that would be most appreciated," Lady Hiro bowed deeply. She and her small entourage were then herded out to a washroom by one of his chunin assistants._

_The door closing behind his guests, Gaara frowned down at the two little pastries in front of him. He supposed he should eat them, as that would be the socially acceptable thing to do. However, his revery was broken when a large hand reached across the table and swiped the pastries from their tiny packaging._

_Gaara eyed Kankuro as the older boy shoved one of the pastries into his mouth. Mouth still full, he raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. "What? Don't tell me you were actually going to eat these."_

_Gaara didn't respond, watching Kankuro pop the other pastry into his mouth and chew thoughtfully. "What do they taste like?"_

_A dark expression passed briefly over Kankuro's painted face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. "Like someone's trying to get on your good side. And berries."_

_Gaara rolled his eyes at his older brother, but when Lady Hiro returned to the room he reported that he had enjoyed their unique taste. His guest seemed quite pleased._

Gaara blinked, the memory dissipating. He fixed Kankuro with a look, some new emotion trying to claw its way out of his chest. "The pastries. The poison was for _me_."

Kankuro gave a short nod, the movement so slight that Gaara almost thought he had imagined it. "Yes."

The short answer threw Gaara off guard. In the pit of his stomach, he could feel Shukaku stirring slightly, disturbed by the intensity of the emotions suddenly swirling through its human host. Gaara's tongue felt like lead in his mouth. "You knew?"

Before Kankuro could answer, he gave another gasp of pain, gripping at his stomach and curling in on himself again. Temari moved toward him, her brows knitted in concern. She placed a hand on her brother's cheek. "His temperature is rising. Help me move him to the bed."


	2. Chapter 2

Gaara sat by Temari's side, holding a bowl of cool water as she used a cloth to wipe the purple puppeteer's paint from their brother's pale face. Logically, Gaara knew he didn't really need to hold the bowl, but he suspected that Temari had given it to him to lessen his growing feeling of uselessness. Kankuro's fever continued to rise, his previous pale skin flushed and sweaty, and as his temperature rose his grasp on reality seemed to be fading as well. He lay back on his mattress in a fitful attempt at sleep, mumbling occasionally to himself.

Temari continued her gentle ministrations, wiping the last trace of paint from Kankuro's face. Gaara was struck by the intimacy of what he was witnessing and wondered if Kankuro felt vulnerable without his painted mask. Since childhood, Gaara had only seen his brother without his puppeteer's paint a handful of times, and he continued to be amazed how much Kankuro's bare face looked like their father's. Gaara shivered slightly at the memory of the only man he had ever actively feared. Was this was Kankuro felt when he looked at himself in the mirror? Was this the reason he wore his paint unless the situation demanded otherwise?

Gaara also noted that Temari's actions seemed quite practiced, as if the position by her brother's bedside was not new to her. Again, Gaara couldn't help but feel that he must have missed something during his isolated childhood.

"Argh!" Kankuro struggled on the bed below them, arms clamped firmly across his abdomen as his back arched against another stab of pain. Temari had removed his black shirt in an attempt to make him more comfortable, and now they could see the rivulets of sweat running down his chest.

Temari retrieved a scrap of leather from Kankuro's work table and, returning to his side, held it out in front of his mouth. "Here, bite down on this."

Kankuro obeyed, face screwed up in a grimace as he clenched the thick scrap of leather in between his teeth, effectively stifling his sounds of pain. Gaara watched the whole process, his own pulse acting oddly again. Surely there was more they could do; Kankuro was obviously in serious pain. "Perhaps we should get a medic."

"No," Temari replied, shaking her head sadly. "No one else can know of this. Kankuro will be alright, he is strong."

"I don't understand," Gaara admitted softly.

"It's obvious that Kankuro's illness was caused by poison, and that will lead to questions. Baki and the rest of the Jounin Council aren't idiots. They'll figure out how he was exposed to it and then we'll be dealing with a full out war."

"That's not what I meant. Kankuro... knew the pastries were poisoned." It was more of a statement than a question.

Temari avoided his gaze as she turned to rinse the cloth in his bowl of water. "Yes."

"Why?" The question seemed to get stuck in his throat, and he could feel himself shaking. It didn't make sense. Regardless of how much progress he had made over the past year or so, Gaara was still the monster responsible for killing Kankuro's mother and making his childhood a waking nightmare. "Why would he do something like that for me?"

Temari sighed, but answered patiently. "Because he's your niisan, whether you understand what that really means or not, and because this is the only way he's ever been able to protect you."

Gaara's vision seemed to fade out and then back in quickly, and his chest tightened painfully. He felt his mouth go dry and his grip on the bowl loosened. "H-he's done this before? For how long?"

"Since you first came back to live with us," Temari answered quietly, leaning forward to place the damp cloth on Kankuro's forehead. The puppeteer twitched slightly and mumbled something unintelligible, his heavy-lidded eyes rolled partially back in his head. "You might not remember this, but a few weeks after you rejoined the household, you got sick."

Gaara thought back and although the memory was there, it was fuzzy. He recalled feeling hot and dizzy, and being unable to keep anything down. He vaguely remembered being confined to his bed and cool hands lifting him up and forcing him to drink something foul. That was the first time he had ever fallen ill, and his remembered the loss of his uncle and nursemaid Yashamaru had left him completely alone. He nodded at his sister, and Temari continued.

"You had such little control over Shukaku that nobody wanted to get close enough to treat you. Kankuro, however, immediately realized that you weren't sick, but were being poisoned." Temari sat back on her heels, facing Gaara. "I don't know how much you know about the Puppet Core, but each initiate must undergo poison conditioning, in which they sample the different poisons they work with in gradual doses until they build up a tolerance, an immunity of sorts. This is a precaution they take to ensure that they are not taken down by their own poisoned weapons. Kankuro was in the middle of his own conditioning and after recognizing your symptoms he defied a direct order from Father and snuck into your room to administer the antidote. It wasn't until Kankuro was punished for his actions that we realized Father hadn't tried to prevent him from seeing you out of concern for his safety, but because Father was the one who had ordered your... assassination."

Temari paused, and Gaara knew she was giving him time to absorb the information. Although his control over Shukaku was much stronger than when he was a child, they had found that springing news on Gaara triggered not only an emotional response, but often the One-Tail as well. Gaara could feel the demon stirring at the back of his mind and tried to breathe deeply. This wasn't exactly astonishing news; he knew that his father had hated him as a failed experiment and had tried to eliminate him several times in his young life. But the memories still brought out his anger, and Shukaku loved it when he was angry..

His sister looked at him hesitantly, and Gaara could see barely suppressed fear in her teal eyes. "Gaara?"

The young Kazekage pressed one hand to his temple slightly, trying to maintain control. "Continue."

"We were both horrified, but Kankuro was beside himself. He couldn't understand why Father was trying to kill the little brother he had always wanted," Temari cast a fond look down at their brown-haired brother who was tensed again in agony. "He somehow figured out they were putting the poison in your food, so he began tasting everything they gave you."

It made so much sense, Gaara thought. He's always assumed Kankuro just enjoyed tormenting him, always leaning over his smaller brother to swipe food right off his plate. Sometimes he had just taken a single bite and other times he had stolen the whole plate, shoving his own food toward Gaara and claiming that it wasn't fair that the little demon kept getting the better portions. Of course, Gaara could always have ended his brother's life in an instant, but shortly after returning to live in the Kazekage's residence he determined that Kankuro simply wasn't worth it. The older boy hadn't seemed like a great enough challenge to make him feel alive.

All that time Kankuro had been… protecting him? Gaara thought of the countless times Kankuro had brought him food directly to his room, saying that nobody wanted him to come to dinner and that he was lucky Kankuro decided he deserved to eat at all. He remembered retaliating by threatening his brother, shoving him roughly or encasing him in a shell of sand not tight enough to kill but tight enough to remind the older boy what he was capable of. Had Kankuro prepared those meals himself and brought them directly to Gaara to ensure that no one else had a chance to slip anything into it? Whenever Gaara _had_ joined them for meals, by the end of it Kankuro had always been in a foul mood, stomping off to lock himself in his room. Had his brother ever hated and feared him as Gaara thought, or did Kankuro merely escape in order to fight off the effects of the poison he willingly ingested in the jinjuriki's place?

Gaara had so many questions he thought his head might split in two. He found himself unable to form a proper response, the words he wanted to say evading his grasp. Finally, a comprehensible question passed his lips.

"Why?" Gaara's voice sounded strained even to his own ears. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"He couldn't risk it," Temari answered quietly, and Gaara observed a weariness in her face that he had never noticed before. "He was committing treason by protecting you, interfering with a direct order from the Kazekage. It was easier to keep it quiet."

"You knew," Gaara murmured, and realized that he had never thought himself capable of sounding so… broken.

Temari shook her head. "That's only because I walked when he was dosing himself with arsenic. By then he'd finished his conditioning for the Puppeteer Core and he didn't manage to convince me that he was simply doing it to make himself unbeatable. It took a little, shall we say, convincing, but I finally got him to admit that he was trying to build a tolerance to as many poisons as possible so that he could keep you safe."

Leaning forward so that his hands pressed into the tops of his knees, breathing harshly, Gaara found himself wanting to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. His whole life, Gaara had grown up feeling alone and unloved, despised by his father, feared by his sister, and kept at arms length by his brother. And all that time, Kankuro...

"Gaara." Temari's hand firmly pressed against his back, grounding him. "You know that growing up under Father was… complicated. Kankuro was just afraid that if anyone found out, he would be executed as a traitor and there would be no one else who could keep you safe."

Gaara couldn't respond, simply bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose against the headache growing behind his eyes. But Shukaku quieted. The demon liked when Gaara was angry, and although Gaara did not quite understand this warmth radiating outward from his chest, he knew that this was not anger.

Was this what Uzumaki had spoken about? Was this… love?


	3. Chapter 3

Alright people, this is the end! Thanks for reading and for the kind reviews. But please don't mind me. I actually may have made myself tear up a bit while writing this one...

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><p>"Lady Hiro, thank you again for making the journey here to meet with me," Gaara said, all calm politeness as he bowed deeply to the scheming woman.<p>

"O-of course, Lord Kazekage," Lady Hiro answered, also bowing. But when she rose again, her eyes betrayed her nervousness. Clearly she knew her intentions had been discovered, dealt with, and she was now expecting some punishment. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Despite his cool exterior, it took every fiber of Gaara's being to prevent himself from killing the foolish woman in front of him. It wouldn't take more than a flick of his finger. Only a brief glance at Kankuro, standing dutifully at Gaara's side, gave him the resolve to let her go. Kankuro's face paint was back place, carefully designed to disguise the bags that spoke of his restless night as he had struggled against the effects of the poison. Gaara had sat beside him throughout the night, watching his older brother struggle for breath and continue to refuse proper medical treatment, all for the sake of avoiding plunging the Village into a war that they had didn't have the resources to fight.

And here he was, standing beside his Kazekage on legs that had yet to regain full mobility, doing his duty with a strength that Gaara had not realized his brother possessed.

Thankfully, Baki volunteered to accompany Lady Hiro and her party to the village entrance, leaving the three siblings alone. Temari let out a sigh of relief and Gaara walked quickly around his desk and made it to his brother's side just in time to catch Kankuro as his knees buckled. Gaara all but dragged him to the nearest chair, pressing the puppeteer's larger body into it.

"Sit."

For once, Kankuro didn't argue. Gaara fixed him with a frown, trying to figure out how he was going to articulate his still wildly confusing thoughts.

Temari glanced between her two brothers, apparently understanding that this was something the two boys needed to speak about alone. She strode toward the door. "I'm going to see about getting us some tea."

Gaara watched Temari's back as the door snapped shut behind her. That was also something he'd never noticed before. Regardless of the fact that she was the only female sibling, Temari had never been one for domestic chores. She simply didn't have the patience, preferring to power through life with brute force. And yet she had always insisted on serving Gaara herself. The Kazekage's residence was equipped with several cooks and servants who could easily have brought them refreshments, but Temari made a point of steeping their tea and bringing it to her brothers herself even after returning from long, strenuous missions. Even now that she was a jounin and he was Kazekage, if she was in the village she always made a point of stopping by midday to bring him a fresh pitcher of water and replace his glass.

Gaara sighed, amazed at his own blindness. He had been so consumed by his belief that he was feared and unwanted that he had failed to see that the love he so desperately desired was right in front of him the whole time.

He also wondered vaguely just how many attempts there had been on his life that his siblings took so many precautions with him.

Walking back around his desk, Gaara leaned foreward and braced himself against the glossy wood, gathering his resolve. "Kankuro-"

"I'm not going to stop, you know." Kankuro cut him off sharply, and Gaara was surprised to find the older boy staring him down. "Even if you don't think of me as your brother, even if you don't believe I care, I won't stop trying to protect you."

Ah yes, he'd said that once, hadn't he? He'd been such a fool… Gaara shook his head, struggling to articulate himself. "I... don't want you to stop."

The puppet master looked stunned. "What?"

"I just want to know why." Gaara sounded tired, and he knew it wasn't because he didn't sleep at night.

"Why?" Kankuro frowned, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Because you're my otouto, you idiot."

Gaara blinked, that familiar, unnamed feeling of warmth spreading throughout his body. Surely it couldn't be that simple. "But I am also a monster. I murdered your mother, your friends… I threatened your life. How does a blood-bond overcome all my sins?"

"You're not a monster." Kankuro answered quickly and with such conviction that Gaara swore he felt his heart stop. "And you never were. You were a little boy who couldn't control a demon stuck inside you by a sick father who cared more for the village than his own children."

"But…" Gaara's mind raced. How was Konkuro so sure about him, when Gaara himself couldn't rightly say if the bloodlust came from Shukaku or his own dark desires? "But you feared me."

"I never feared you, I feared that thing inside of you. And every time it got loose, I feared it would rip you apart and I would lose the little brother I'd never gotten a chance to know." Gaara still didn't look convinced, and Kankuro groaned, closing his eyes briefly. "Phh, are you really going to make me say it?"

Gaara could only stare.

"Fine, fine… I protect you because I love you, otouto."

_Kankuro, he... loves me?_

Why his knees suddenly felt weak was beyond him, but Gaara sank down into the chair behind his desk nonetheless. He found himself saying, for what felt like the millionth time in the past few days, "I don't understand."

Kankuro sighed, massaging his temples with one hand. "Love isn't something you can explain, otouto. It's just something that is, that grows naturally."

Gaara watched in fascination as his brother flushed and he realized that Kankuro didn't usually talk about things like this. But even though the older boy squirmed uncomfortably, he continued speaking. "I knew I loved you from the moment Mother told me I was going to be a niisan. But I only got to see you once before Father took you away to be raised by Uncle. You were so small… I was afraid that Uncle would crush you with in his big hands."

"And when you were brought back to us," Kankuro paused, swallowing thickly, "you were so different. We all were. Father was never around anymore and then when he was he was always… so angry. And you were always so angry. Everyone kept telling me to stay away from you, that you were this uncontrollable monster, but every time I looked at you I could only see the otouto I had always wanted."

Kankuro paused, finally glancing up at his little brother. He immediately blanched, rising jerkily out of his chair. "Oh shit, Gaara…"

Gaara himself was surprised to feel warm tracts of liquid rolling down his cheeks. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. Maybe after Yashamaru… But that didn't matter anymore. Kankuro… wanted him. Kankuro had always wanted him. Gaara was wanted.

Kankuro looked horrified, like he'd broken his otouto. His reached hurriedly across the broad expansive of the desk and grasped Gaara's wrist, but that only seemed to make Gaara cry harder. The young Kazegae fought to maintain a blank expression, surprised at himself for breaking down like this. He wasn't sobbing, like he'd seen other people do at funerals, but silently shaking, tears streaming down his face and breath coming in short gasps. Gaara was the feared jinjuriki of Shukaku, the Fifth Kazekage of the Village Hidden in the Sand. The fact that his older brother was all but holding his hand should _not_ make him cry.

And yet it was hard to ignore the fact that Kankuro was the first person to voluntarily touch Gaara since Yashamaru.

"Please don't cry," Kankuro begged, clearly unsure of what to do. "I know I didn't handle myself well. I was a shitty niisan. I called you a demon and let you grow up thinking you were alone. I tried, but I couldn't always protect you. And I'm sorry."

Gaara shook his head, still unable to stem the tears rolling down his cheeks. It was too much. Why was Kankuro apologizing, when he'd done so much right?

Kankuro's expressive mouth tightened into a flat line, and he released Gaara's wrist. The appendage seemed to throb, aching with the loss of his warm touch. But to Gaara's astonishment, rather than walking away Kankuro stumbled around the side of the desk and pulled the young Kazekage up into his arms in a firm embrace.

Stunned, Gaara stopped crying. Hesitantly, he leaned into the hug, feeling warm and secure against his brother's broad chest. Rationally, Gaara knew that Kankuro was still weak from the poison and he should be at least sitting down. But something else brought his arms up and had his hands grasping his brother's shirt as though he would never allow them to be parted.

Kankuro spoke, and his voice resonated through his chest and into Gaara's head. "Shh, niisan is here. And I will always protect you."

Standing just outside the Kazekage's door, Temari felt tears gathering in her own eyes and the tea tray quivered precariously in her grasp. She longed to go to her brothers and hold them both herself, but she knew this was a moment for the two of them alone.

"Lady Temari?" One of Gaara's chunin assistants approached her curiously. "Do you need me to get the door for you?"

Temari her head, blinking to dispel the liquid that had gathered. "No, I'm alright. I just peeked in and think I will come back in a bit. Lord Gaara is… well, he seems quite busy at the moment. Perhaps you could take this back to the kitchen for me?"

"Oh course, m'Lady." The assistant took the tray from her easily and headed off down the hall.

Glancing back at the door to the Kazekage's office, Temari allowed herself a smile. Years of heartbreak and missed opportunities couldn't be healed overnight, but it looked like she and her siblings were finally on the right track.


End file.
